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(

F

p

s,

#

,*

)1

'l{

rk,

s

ffi

&

The

Heritage:

Care-Preseruation-Management

programme has

been

designed

to serve the

needs of

the

museum

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heritage

communiry

worldwide. It

publishes books and information

services

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professional

museum and heritage

workers, a;rd

for

all

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organizations

that

service

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Editor-in-chlef,'

Andrew

Wheatcroft

Architecture

in

Conservation:

Managing

deuelopments

at bistoric

sites

James

Strike

The

Developmnt

of

Costume

Naomi

Tarrant

Forward Planning: A

handbook

of

business,

corporate

and

deuelopment

planning

for

museums

and

galleries

Edited

by Timothy Ambrose

and

Sue

Runyard

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Handbook for

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uillage

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Museurn, Media,

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Museum Security and

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A

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people,

professionals

and

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Edited by Parrick J.

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Visitors

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The Past in Contemporary

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Then/Now

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The Representation

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Past:

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Towards the

Museum of

the

Future:

New European

perspectiues

Edited by Roger Miles

and

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Museums

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Shaping

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an

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EI

London

and

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.ir

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,,.,1

iT-

i

First

published

in 1992

by

Routledge

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Feer

Lane, London

EC4P 4EE

Simultaneously

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in the

USA and

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by

Routledge

29 West 35th

Street,

New

York,

NY

10001

Reprinted

1993,

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@

1992 Eilean

Hooper-Greenhill

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in

Great Britain

by Butler & Tanner Ltd,

Frome and London

All

rights

reserved. No

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permission in writing from the

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British

Library

Cataloguing

in Publication Data

Hooper-Greenhill,

Eilean

Museums

and the

shaping of

knowledge.

*

(Heritage).

1.

Museums

/\

1..,

O t- n .t C"

l.

Tirle ,1 :'- J

''L

Lr\

069

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^

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(_

:'r"

jtJii

Library

of

Congress

Cataloging

in Publication

Data

Hooper-Greenhill,

Eilean

Museums

and

the shaping of

knowledge/Eilean

Hooper-Greenhill.

p. cm.-(Heritage)

Includes

bibliographical

references.

1.

Museums-Management.

2.

Museum

rechniques.

3.

Museums-

Educadonal

aspects.

I.

Title. II.

Series.

AM7.H66

1992

069'.5-dc20

ISBN H15-O7031-7

n,

)

1

1

u,

/

91-17628

Printed

on

permanent

paper in

accordance

with American

NISO Standards

For

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with

loue

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

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Contents

List

of

Plates

1

Vhat

is

a

museum?

2

The

first

museum

of

EuroPe?

3

The

palace

of

the

Prince

4

The

irrational

cabinet

5

The

'cabinet of

the

world'

6

The

Repository

of

the Royal

Society

7

The

disciplinary

museum

8

A

useful

past for

the

present

Bibliography

Index

viii

L

23

47

78

105

133

167

1,91.

2t6

229

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

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List

of

plates

7

8

The

Museum

of

Frances Calceolari

in

Verona, from

Ceruti

and

Chiocco, 7522.

13

Visitor

at

African

culture exhibition at Bruce Castle

Museum,

Har-

ingey, London,

7990.

(Photograph:

Townley Cooke)

19

Michelozzo: Palazzo

Medici

Riccardi,

Florence,

c.L440.

(Archivi

Alinari)

25

Posthumous

portrait

of

Cosimo de Medici

(Pater

Patriae)

by

Pontormo. (Uffizi,

Florence;

Archivi

Alinari)

27

Marble

bust of Piero de Medici by

Mino

da Fiesole,

1453.

(Museo

Nazionale

del Bargello, Florence; Archivi

Alinari) 31

School

of

Albrecht Drer, Maximilian's

Treasure,

woodcut, 1512-

L5.

(Staatliche

Graphische

Sammlung,

Munich;

by

permission of the

British Museum)

49

Tazza Farnese.

(Museo

Nazionale,

Naples; Archivi Alinari) 55

Terracotta

bust of Lorenzo de

Medici by

Andrea del

Verrocchio,

c.L485.

(National

Gallery of

rWashington,

Samuel

H. Kress Col-

lection)

59

Terracotta

bust of

Niccolo

Niccoli da

[Jzzano

by Donatello, based

on an

antique

bust

of Cicero, between

1.460 and L480,

height

46 cm.

(Museo

Nazionale del Bargello,

Florence; Archivi Alinari) 63

Judith

by

Donatello, c.

1,456.

(Museo

Nazionale del Bargello,

Flor-

ence; Archivi

Alinari) 75

Kunstkammer

by Frans Franken

the

Younger. Panel,

early

sev-

enteenth

century.

(Stdtische

Museum,

Frankfurt)

81

12 Credence

vessel,

silver and fossilised

sharks' teeth.

Late

sixteenth

century.

(Kunsthistorisches

Museum, Vienna)

83

13

Kunstscbrank

of.

Gustavus

Adolphus, made

in

1.625-31

by

Philip

Hainhofer.

(University

of

Uppsala)

87

Abbey

memory

system from

Johannes

Romberch,

Congestoriurn

Artificiose

Memorie, ed.

of Venice,

1533, p.117. 93

Images to

be

used in the Abbey memory system

from

Johannes

Romberch,

Congestorium Artificiose Memorie,

1,533.

95

10

1,1,

14

15

(Ming

de Nasty) 212-t3

16

View

of

the

east

wall

of

the

Studiolo

of the

Grand

Duke

Francesco

Lv

lt.

(Palaz,zo

Vecchio,

Florence;

Archivi

Alinari)

.

1'07

17

The

Ptolemaic

Universe

III,

Utriusque

Cosmi Maioris

Scilicet

et

Minoris

Metaphisica,

Phi.sica

atque

Technica

in

Duo Volumina

Secund,um

Cosmi

Differentiam

Diuisa

. . .

.

Tomus

Primus

de Macro'

cosrni

Historia,

by

Robert

Fludd. Oppenheim,

Johann

Theodore de

BrY,

1617,

PP'4-5'

717

1g

The

'Anriquarium'

of

the littelsbach

Residenz in

Munich

by

Jacopo

d,a

Strada.

Built

in

L568,

alterations 1586-1500,

and restored

after

the

Second

'Sorld

War.

19

Spring

from

the

base of

the

fountain

by

Wenzel

Jamnitzer

113

143

153

155

1.87

and

Johann

Gregor

Vienna)

van Schardt.

(Kunsthistorisches

Museum,

1,77

portrait

of

Rudolf

II

as Vertumnus,

by Arcimboldo,

c.1,590.

(Sko-

kloster

Castle,

Sweden)

119

The

Natural

History

Cabinet

of the

Neapolitan

Naturalist

and

Chemist

Ferrante

Imperato.

(Bibliothque

Nationale, Paris)

127

View

of

the

Gardens

and

the

Cortile

of the

Beluedere

in Rome by

Hendrick

van

Cleeve.

(Ancient

Art

Museum, Brussels)

729

23

The Imperial

Gallery

in Prague

by

Johann

Bretschneidet,

17t4.

(Germanisches

National

Museum, Nuremberg)

26

27

Memory

Theatre

or

Repository

f.rom

J.

\7illis,

Mnemonica,

1'6'l'8.

151

'Description

of

the

real character'

from Essay towards

a Real Charac-

ter

and a

Philosopbical

Language by

John

l(ilkins,

1668,

p.387.

(Reading

University

Library)

Page

frorn

Grewls

Musaeum Regalis Societatis

(1681).

First

page of the

Instructions

prepared

on

the order

of the

National

Convention

for

the

Preservation of

Cultural

Objects,

1794.

(Biblio-

thque

Nationale,

Paris)

175

Entre

Triomphale des

Monuments

(6

February 1798), engraving

by

Pierre

Gabriel

Berthault from a drawing

by Girardet.

(Bibliothque

Nationale,

Paris)

177

Plan of the

paintings gallery

in the

Schloss Belvedere,

installation

realised

by Mechel, 1778, under the

orders

of

Chancellor

Kaunitz.

(Kunsthistorisches

Museum, Vienna)

A choice

screen flomThe

Collectors

interactive

video, made by

New

Media

for Gallery 33

at

Birmingham Museum and

Art

Gallery.207

The

fishwife

from 'The

People's

Story',

Edinburgh

City

Museum.

209

Photographs

from

'The

People's

Show',

Walsall Art Gallery,

7990,

List

of

plates

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

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&

'

4:

|$l

:ia

'ti,

What

is

a

museum?

Wh",

is

a

museum?

Museums

are

no

longer built

in the

image of

that

nationalistic

temple

of culture,

the

British Museum.

Today, almost

any-

thing

may

turn

out

to be

a museum,

and museums

can

be found

in

farms,

boats,

coal

mines,

warehouses,

prisons, castles,

or

cottages. The

experience

of

going

to a

museum is often

closer

to

that of

going

to a

theme

park

or

a

funfair

than that which used

to be

offered by

the austere'

glass-case

lnuseum.

The

last

few

years have

seen

a major shifting and

reorganisation

of

museums.

Change

has

been

extreme and rapid,

and,

to

many people who

lloved

museums

as

they were,

this

change has

seemed

unprecedented,

unexpected,

and

unacceptable.

It

has

thrown

previous

assumptions

about

the

nature

of

museums

into disarray.

The

recent

changes

have shocked

most

those

who

felt that

they knew

what museums

were,

how they

should

be,

and

what

they

should be doing.

This

fixed

view

of

the

identity

of

museums

has sometimes

been firmly

held and, until

recently,

little

has disturbed

it.

But it is a mistake

to

assume that

there is only one form of realiry

for museums, only one

fixed

mode of

operating. Looking back into the history

of

museums,

the

realities

of

museums

have

changed

many times. Museums

have always

had to

modify

how

they worked, and

what

they

did,

according

to

the context,

the

plays

of

power,

and the

social, economic,

and

political imperatives

that

surrounded

them.

Museums, in common

with

all

other social

institutions,

sgy_e

many

masters,

and must

play

many

tunes accordingly.

Perhaps

success

can

be defined

by the

ability to

balance all

the tunes

that

must

be

played

and

still

make

a

sound worrh listening

to.

At

the present

time,

in

many

areas

where decisions are

made about

the

funding

and

maintenance

of museums, hard

questions

are now being

asked

about

the

iustificadon

of museums,

about their role

in the

community,

and their

functions and

potentials.

Where

the

answers are

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

6/23

fl

n,

-

,qL

's

i

Museums

and

the Shaping

of Knowledge

not forthcoming,

or

where

perceptions

of the

value

of

museums are

low

in

relation to other

priorities,

collections are sold,

staff

dismissed,

and

buildings closed.

In

most

cases

the

answers

that are

given

are

that

museums

are

educational institutions.

Today,

the

educational

role

of

museums

is claimed as a major

justification.

The director of the

Museums

Association,

for

example,

argued

to

Derbyshire

County Council

on

the

occasion of

their decision to sell

some of their collections,

that:

Museums

and

their collections are

a

valuable

and

irreplaceable

community

service

and

have immense

educational

value. To

show

no

interest

in keeping

the museum

collection is to show

no

interest

in

education

and in

preserving

an awareness of Derbyshire and its

history

and culture.

(The

lndependent

6 September

1990)

Knowledge

is

now

well

understood as

the

commodity that museums

offer.

An example

makes

this clear.

As part

of the new

ethos

of corporate

involvement in

museums and

galleries,

the opportunity

to

change

one's

perception

or

knowledge of the

world through a visit to an art

gallery

is offered

by

those whose

funding makes exhibitions

possible.

In

an

advertisement

in

The

Independent

Colour

Supplement

(8

September

1990),

for

example,

a

sponsor

of the

Monet exhibition at the Royal

Academy in

the autumn

of

1990,

proclaimed:

Discover

how one

man's vision can change the way

you

look at the

world.

In

every series,

no two

pictures

are

exactly alike.

A

single theme. The

same obiect.

But

enveloped in

varying light,

changing seasons

and

atmosphere.

This

is Monet

in the'90s.

Digital

Equipment

Corporation and

its employees are

proud

to

sponsor

the

exhibition that

brings

together, for the first time, the series

paintings

of Claude Monet.

This, in the

form of an advertisement, and

used

to

celebrate corporate

values,

is a

proclamation

about

how

knowing can

alter

seeing. Our

perception

of

the world, we are told, will be

different

once

we know

and

are

familiar

witl"r these

paintings.

The

statement is a recognition

of

the way in

which museums and

galleries

can alter

perception,

and

can

contribute

to

knowledge.

But

if

museums

are

places

in which

we may

come to know new

things,

and

where

our

perceptions

may

radically

change,.what

is the nature

of

this

knowing,

and how

are these changes

brought

about?

\fhat

is

rr

i.s

only

fairly

recently

that

museums

have

been

subjected to any rigorous

f*o,';i

.liri."f

analysis.

In

the

past' museums

have

somehow

escaped

lfr.'.*.frf

srudy

ro

which

schooling,

or

the

media,

for example,

have

il..,

*ii.cred.

The

hidden

curriculum

and the

unseen and

unspoken

;";'-.;;;.ful.

underlying

assumptions

that

construct

what

counts

as

fi;r.

inlschool

curricula

have

been

exposed

(Young,

1,975).

Tele-

ui;i;"

prJgr"**es

have

equally

been

closely observed

and

the ideological,

;;";.f.rnd

cultural

elements

that

have

formed

the

apparently

seamless

:;;.;r

ihr,

*.

consume

daily

have

been

exposed

(Glasgow

University

il.Ji"

Group,

1972;

1980;

1982;

Villiams,

1.974).

The study

of

the

way

i,

*hi.h

knowing

is

enabled'

constructed,

and

consumed

in

schools,

'hrough

films,

in

television,

and

in

literature,

is well

established. However,

if, ,"ri"tyris

of

the

various

elements

that together

make

up the

'reality'

that

we

call

'the

museum'

has

barely

begun'

This

book

asks

some

very

basic

questions.

-\7hat

does

'knowing'

in

mpgeums

mean?

' (hat,q991 -s-

a-s

tlgwlqdgg

in

the

99q99m?

or to

put

it

;",f,.,

way,

what

1s

the

ba,iii of

r1t_rolalit/ ilth;

mu-9euq1tV.hatir

acceptabie

and

what

is regarded

as

ridiculougr-and

why?

Does this

change

ov-iimel

How.are

individual

people expected

to

perform

in museums?

What

is the

role

of

the

visitor

and

what

is the role

of

the curator?

How

i"'*^ttri^l

things

constructed

as

obiects within

the

museum? How

are

individuals

constructed

as subjects?

'\hat

is the relationship

of space,

ii111,'ibject,

and

object?

And,

perhaps the

question

that

subsumes all

the.others,

how

are

'museums' constructed

as objects?

Or,

w-h3t

go'11nt

as

a

museum?

There

have

been

very

few

critical

studies

in

relation

to

the

museum and

virtually

all of

these

have been

written

from

outside

a direct

experience

of

the

museum

as a

profession.

Museum

workers have,

until

recently,

remained unaware

of

their

practices,

and

uncritical

of the

processes

that

they

are

engaged

in

every

day.

'Sithin

the

practices

of the

museum, the

aspect

of

criticism, or of

developed

reflection

on day-to-day

work,

has

been

very weak

indeed.

Critical reflection

is, indeed, still actively

resisted

by

some

curators

who

see

themselves

as

practical people

who

have no

time

to waste

on

this

unproductive

activity. Most

museum work,

until

very recently, proceeded

without identified

objectives,

without

generally

agreed and

understood

institutional

policies, and in a context

of received

opinion

(Burrett,

1^985;

Miles,

1.985;

Prince and

Schadla-Hall,

1985).

The

lack

of examination

and

interrogation of the

professional, cultural,

and

ideological

practices

of museums has meant

both

a failure

to examine

the

basic

underlying principles

on

which current

museum

and

gallery

practices

rest,

and

a failure to

construct

a

critical history

of the

museum

field.

The

structure

of

rationality

that informs

the

way in which

museums

a museum?

-;_-

.r-L U*.'

r-.t

,-r.

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

7/23

(

Museums

and the Shaping

of Knowledge

come into being, both

at the

presenr

time

and in the

past,

is

taken

as

unproblematic,

and therefore

as

a

given.

Most explanations

of

museums

do not take

the

concept

of rationality

as

problematic,

although it might

be argued

rhat the

museum

in

its

role

as

the

'Classifying

House'

(Vhiteh

ead, L970;

1.97L)

is

and has

been

acdvely

engaged over time

in

the

construcrion

of varying rationalities.

'Ration-

ality'

is understood

as

something

which

is self-evident and which

needs

no explanation:

The fundamental role

of

the

museum in

assembling

objects

and

maintaining them

within

a

specific

intellectual environment

emphasizes

that museums

are

storehouses

of

knowledge

as well as

storehouses

of

objects, and that the

whole exercise

is

liable to be futile

unless

the

accumulation

of obiects

is strictly

rational.

(Cannon-Brookes,

1984:

11,6)

But if museum workers

have

been unaware

of the

effects

of their

practices,

others have

not been so

blind.

Michel-F-o_t1c_4_1rlt

points graphically

ro

the

extraordinary

effect of

systems

of classification in

the

Prefac

e

to

lhe

O-rder

pf

Ihings,

w-here he

points

out

rhat:

This book first arose

out of

a

passage

in Borges,

out

of the

laughter

that

shattered,

as

I

read the

passage,

all

the

familiar landmarks

of my

thought

-

our thought, the

thought that

bears the stamp

of

our

age

and

our

geography

-

breaking

up

all

the ordered

surfaces

and

all the

planes

with

which

we

are

accusromed

to

tame the

wild

profusion

of

existing things, and

continued

long

afterwards

to

disturb

and

threaten

with

collapse

our

age-old

distinction

between the

same and

the

other.

This

passage

quotes

a

'cerrain

Chinese

encyclopedia'

in

which

ir is

written

that 'animals

are

divided into:

(a)

belonging

to

rhe Emperor,

(b)

embalmed,

(c)

tame,

(d)

sucking pigs,

(e)

sirens,

(f)

fabulous,

(g)

stray dogs,

(h)

included

in the present

classification,

(i)

frenzied,

(j)

innumerable,

(k)

drawn

with

a

very

fine

camel-hair

brush,

(l)

et

cetera,

(m)

having just broken

the warer

pitcher,

(n)

that from

a

long

way

off

look

like

flies'.

In the

wonderment

of

this raxonomy, the

thing that

we apprehend in one

great

leap,

the thing that,

by means

of this fable,

is

demonstrated as the charm

of another

system

of thought,

is the

limitation

of our own, the

stark impossibility

of. thinking

that.

(Foucault,

L970:

xv)

The

system of

classification,

ordering, and framing,

on which

such

a

list

is

based

is

so

fundamentally

alien

to

our

western way

of thinking as

to

be,

in

fact,

'unthinkable',

and, indeed,

'irrational'.

But

presumably the

list was

regarded

as

rational,

and

as

a

valid way

of

knowing.

How

can

;*t.

b..sure

that

there

is

nor

a

ratlont

lisr

?

l : 'r .: i

.:',1

.

:'

.'"ule

to

make

sense

of

such

a

list

would be

mind-expanding and

i;"f

offer

new

possibilities

of

clssifying

the

world, and even

new ways

;ffi,

in

ir.

Ir

would

certainly

demand

new

ways

of

organising

museum

,2i

"ri"^llery

collections.

The

seParations

we

know between

'fine and

ltrr,i.

^rt

^"a

'natural

history'

for

example,

would

collapse'

Many

'

that

we

use

to explain

the

interrelationships of obiects

:'of the

taxonomles

'

'::ila'fta.i.s

would

need

to

be

rewritten,

and

collections

would need to be

,:,itb

r.a;

paintings,

aftefacts,

and

specimens would

need

to

be

placed

'ti#r;rty

within

display

cases,

their

records and documentation

would

'#i

ro

be

re-examined

and

amended;

their

positions

in storage drawers,

i bin.t ,

and

racks

would

need

to

be changed.

In other

words, if we

'CC'pted

as

'true'

the

classification

that

Foucault describes'

the work

i',f

liur"rors

in

identifying,

controlling,

ordering,

and displaying their

,iill.lriotts

would

have

to begin all

over

again'

,.,..ii

'

,

lf

new

taxonomies

mean

new ways

of ordering

and documenting collec-

,

iions,

then

do

the

existing

ways

in

which

collections are

organised

mean

,'tht

,taxonomies

are

in

fact socially

constructed

rather than

'true'

or

.,,rational'?

Do the

existing

systems

of

classification

enable

some

ways

of

k1r-gwing,

but

prevent

others?

Are the exclusions,

inclusions,

and

priorities

that

determine

whether

objects

become

part

of collections,

also creating

,,s1,st.*s

of

knowledge?

Do the

rituals and

power

relationships

that allow

;sofrre

objects

to be

valued and others

to be

reiected

operate to control

the

,"farameters

of knowledge

in

the

same

way as

the timetabling rituals

and

the

power

relationships

of

teachers,

governors, pupils,

and

the

state

'opeiate

to make

some school subjects more

valuable

than

others?

'Taxonomies

within

the

museum have

not been

considered in relation to

ihe rational

possibilities

that

they

might

enable

or

prevent. Classification

in the museum

has

taken

place

within an ethos of obviousness.

The

selbction

and ordering

processes

of

museums

are

rarely

understood

as

historically

and

geographically

specific, except

at

a

very rudimentary

level:

'Collecting

is

a very

basic

activity,

in

that food-gathering

is a

characteristic

of all animals,

bur, setting aside the

activities of certain

species

of

birds,

the

systematic

collecting

of obiects

which ful6l a

cerebral,

as

againsr

bodily,

function is

confined

to a limited number

of

(Cannon-Brookes,

1984:

115)

cultures

and

societies

of man.

What is a museum?

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i

Museums

and

the Shaping of

Knowtcttge

time to explain

the identities

of museums

at other historical

momen

and

in

other

geographical

spaces.

Thus the

writing of

museum

history

uf

until now

has consisred

in taking

the

existing relationships

in

museums

and placing

them as far

back in

time

as

possible,

and then

idencifying

x

forward linear development

of

rhese relationships.

'Museums'from

othe,

historical

periods

are seen

as

the

'direct

ancestors'

of the

forms

of

museurn

,

,

that exist at

the present

time

(Taylor,

1987:202).

'The modern

museurn

'

effectively

dates

from the Renaissance..

.. Even at

that

time,

however,

,

one

can already see

the dual

role

of

museums:

to exhibit

objects

and

to

provide

a working

collection

for

scholars'

(\Whiteh

ead,

1981,:7).

This'blind'history, and this

failure ro

analyse, understand,

and articulate

the

practices

of

the

present,

has

some serious

consequences.

Firstly,

there

is a

difficulty

in accommodating

a

plurality

of histories.

This

is

parricularly

acute

in

relation

to

museums,

as

there is

an extreme

diversity

of forms,

with varying funding

and administrarive

arrangements,

varying

'col-

lections',

and

varying

scales

of operation.

Each

of these

different material

manifestations

can be

related

to a

differenr set

of constraints and

possi-

bilities.

A second diflficulty

with an

impoverished

understanding

of the

past

is

the

lack

of

a

historical

specificity.

The

search

for

'origins'

and a

'rradirion'

means

a search for similarities

rather than

differences,

and

the

specific

set

of

political, cultural,

economic,

and

ideological relations

that charac-

terises different historical

manifestations

is rendered

invisible,

and

is

therefore

effectively lost.

Thirdly, concepts

of change

are

in

themselves

difficult

to

articulate.

If

the

aim

is to

show

how

things have

remained

the

same,

then how is change

to

be understood?

The

inability

to understand

the possibility

of

.h"r .

within

the museum

entails

an

inflexibility

in the

understanding

of

the

present.

The conditions

that

exist

in

the

present

are

seen as

immurable,

justified

by a single,

undifferentiated

history. The

existing

articulations

of

practices

are

seen as

the

only possible

ones

and the radical potentials

of

museums

as sites

for critical

reflection on

the past and the present

are

lost.

At

a

time

when all

other

social fields

are in

a

period

of rapid

change,

which willy-nilly

impinges

upon

the

practices

and possibilities

of

museums,

the lack of

a flexible

model for

museums

leads

ro severe

problems

in accommodating

and

working

with

the new

elements

that

are

imposed

upon

the existing

field. \Tithout

this abiliry

to adapt, to

find new

ways

of

being museums,

and

new

ways

of recruiting

support,

museums

are being closed down,

collections

sold, and

staff

dismissed.

If

presenr-

day

museums

and

galleries

can

be

seen

as

not the only

form in which

museums can

exist,

but merely

the

form which the play

of

various powers

has

permitted to emerge,

then shifts

in

this

play

of

powers

can be

seen as

',$r

olan

unceasing,

jostling p:?cess

to

gain

rhe

high

ground.

If

the

.:;iocess

is

contrnuous

"nd

inevitable,

as

the

play

of

powers

must be,

then

,,:;;';;;.,

are

clear:

enter

the

arena,

fight for

the

power to impose

'Hr,,lr

i::,:'::'ilJl'il1,l.::

"t

the

game

and

arrow others to

imPose

rneanlng

a

''':

';',,itf-iclivehistorY

ffii,

book

interrogates

the

ptesent-day

givens

of

museums in

order

to

',tA

n.*

ways

of.

writing

and

understanding

the

history

of

this

present.

t,i,il

.,

to

do

this,

insights

from

the

work of

Michel Foucault

will

be

.ii,,'s d.'

)tj:

-

'...

.1

:,

,:

::.

.:

1

Iti,iou."ulr's

work

is

interesting

in a

number

of

ways. For example,

Foucault

:

lrtt,

into

question

the

rationality

which

grounds

the

establishment of

a

',

ffi.

of

acceptability

(Foucault,

1980a:

257). ln

other

words,

the

eonlmon:sense

world

within

which

we

all

live is not

taken as a

given,

but

ii

qu.ition.d

in

all its

aspects,

including the very

basic notions

that

we

.

tiil;;nd

to

be.reasonable,

or'true'.

Foucault

understands

reason

and

:ti[i ,

i

be

relative,

lqlhgt

t\4q

4b1o l1e

_congeprs,

and

he

proposes_that

'

6;th

reason

and

truth

have

historic{,

s.qgi3l,

a_1d_9u qral

contexts. Rather

t"n'r.pt

the

tradirional

philosophical tenet that an

absolute

rationaliry

exists,

foucault

1e egqp-qhe-

familiar

ratioiral/irration4l

qplitt

3nd

qlopo:9s

:

thl

forms

of

rationali-g-y

hlve a

histo:ical specificity.

What counts

as a

i"iion"l

act

^t

one

time will not so

count

at another

time, and

this

is

dpendent

on

the

context

of reson that

prevails.

Foucault

examines

how

forms of

reason

have

modified

over time and

how

they

have

been

constituted

at specific

historical moments.

He has

also examined

how

forms

of rationality and

regimes of truth

inscribe

themselves

in

practices

or

systems of

practices, and

has asked

what

role

they

play

within these

practices

(Foucault,

1981a:

8).

How

has reason,

truth, or knowledge

been produced

and

how do

people

govein

both

ihemielues

and others by the

limitations

and

specifics

of particular

forms?

F-oucault's

work

shows that

the origin

of

what

we take to be

rational,

-the

bearer

of

truth, is rooted in domination

and

subjugation"=4n-d

p

constituted

by the

relationship

of

forces and

powers

(Hoy,

1986: 225).

He

offers us

a set

of tools for the

identification

of the conditions

of

possibiliry

which operate through

the

apparent obviousnesses

and

enigmas

of

our

present.

These

tools

suggest

techniques that

open

the

ensemble

of

practices,

understood as

givens,

to interrogation,

and

thereby

to

understanding

and subsequently,

to modification

(Foucault,

1980a:

258).

If

we can

use these tools to

analyse, understand,

and

evaluate

the

What

is

a museum?

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7

t

t

I

1

I

J

J

Museums

and

the Shaping

of

t

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Museums

and

the Shaping of rnorJi.dg.

and explored, will

later be

shown ro

reverse

the

judgements

of

norrnal

history.

The structures

of

knowledge

'Effective

history'

provides

some tools

for

rereading

the

past.

rou."ull

also offers other tools,

some

of

which

are

peculiarly

relevant

in

the

analysis of the ways in

which

museums

have shaped

knowledge.ln

The

order

of

Things

(Foucault,

1970),

the structures of

knowing

are

described

as

they

shift from the

Renaissance

to modern

times.

Just

as

rationality

is

not absolure, bur

relative

and

shaped

by

culture,

so

rgh4g-.-gqq-nts

as

lnowing

has

v,11ied

across

the centuries.

To describe

rhe context

of

.

knowing,

Foucault offers

us the

concepr

of

the

episteme;the

unconscious,

but

positive

and

productive

set

f

relations

within *f,i.tt

knowledge

is

produced

and

rationality

defined

(Foucauk,

1974:

191).

It

is

suggestd

that what

counts

as

knowing

is largely dependent

on specific

eleryr.ents,

ihcluding cultural,

social,

political,

scientific,

nd

oth...t.-."ir

(tia.i

7, 53). These elements

interrelate

and

work

with or against

each other

in

a state of constant

flux,

so that

meaning

is continually

defined__and

redefined

(Laclau

and

Mouffe, L985:

106, 113).

The elements

themselves

will

also

vary,

as

'science'

or'culture'

changes

and

is

redefined. However,

within this

constant

flux

of

meaning,

Foucault

discerns

large-scale

congru-

ence in the intellectual

activity

of certain

periods.

This

congruence,

con-

stituted

through elements

in

relation, forms

the

basis

for

the

identification

of

the episteme.

Foucault

discovered

and describes

three maior

epistemes.

These

are the

.Renafsgance,

the classical,

and the

modern

epistemes. Each

of these

had

quite

specific

characteristics,

and the shift

froqr

one

to

the

next r.9pr_e_9g4ed

4

massive

cultural

and epistemological

upheaval,

a

rupture

that

meant

the

complete rewriting

of knowledge.

The basic characteristics

of the

Renaissance

episteme

were

interpretation

and

similitude,

with

things being read

for

their

hidden relationships to

each

other.

These hidden

relationships

could

be endlessly

rewritten,

which

made

this

form

of knowing

'a thing

of

sand'

(Foucault,

1970:30).It

was

resemblance

that made

it

possible

to know

things that

were

both visible

and invisible, that enabled

the interpretation

of texts, and

that

organised

the

endless

play

of symbols.

Resemblance was positioned

as a form

of

repetition

and reflection,

with

the earth

echoing

the sky,

and

faces reflected

in the

stars

(Foucaulr,

1970: 17). The

world and

all

the

things

in it were

conceived

as

being

continuously and endlessly related

in

many different

ways,

which were

1

The museum of

Frances Calceolari

in

Verona,

from Ceruti

and

Chiocco,

1'622.What

are

the relationships

that

linked

the divers

objects

in

the museum

of

Frances

Calceolari

in

Verona at

the beginning

of

the seventeenth

century?'Readings'

of

the collections must

have revealed

many

complex,

and

possibly secret,

webs

of

resemblances.

The function

of

re museum

was to enable

the interpretation

and reinterpretation

of

the

similitudes,

made

manifest

in

the

collections, which

demonstrated

how Art

and Nature

echoed

each

other.

i ' l

b{r9fl.

lJ ti

'rfi:''\'

1.2

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(

Museums

and the Shaping

of Knowledge

in

fact

hidden and secret.

These

secrets

would

be revealed if

the surface

signs,

the indications

inscribed

on

the visibility

of things,

were

correctly

related

to

that which

rhey

signified.

Visible

marks

existed

to indicate

invisible, and often

secret,

analogies

(ibid.:

25).

Herbs, plants,

and

other

natural

things that issued

from

the

bowels

of

the earth

were seen

as

so

many magic

books and

signs

(ibid.:27).

The

activities that

constiruted

the

process

of knowing

were those forms

of interpretation

that revealed

some

aspect

of the

similitude

of

things.

Foucault describes

these

in some

detail.

There are four

sfmilitudes.

The

first

is conuenientta, which

indicates-the

ffil''Cancy-f'

thiffi rt"r

"r.

convenient'

enough

to be

placea

in

ioii;irct[on

to

each other,

with

their

edges

touching. The Elizabethan

Great

chain

of Being

is an

example

of

the

notion of. conuenientia (Tillyard,

1943).

The

second

similitude

is

aemulatio,

which

is

a form

of

conuenientia

that has

been freed from

rhe

need for

proximity

and may

operate

at

a

distance,

so

that things with

no

apparent

relation

of

juxtaposition

may

in

fact answer

each

other from

a

long way off. The

third

form

of

similitude

is analogy,

which

is

a com-

plicated

superimposition

of

conuenientia

and

aemulatio,

which may give

rise

to

an

endless number

of relationships

from one single

starting

point.

The final form

of similitude

is provided

by the play

of

sympathies,

which

span

the

universe

in

a free

way,

with

no limitations

and prefigurations

laid down

in advance.

sympathy

is

a

play

of

movement,

amracting

thar

which is heavy

to

the

earth

and

those

things

which are

light

to the

air.

For

example,

it

is

sympathy

which

enables the

sunflower

ro

rurn towards

the sun,

and

makes

the

roots

of

a

growing

plant

seek out

water. A basic

task for

sytltpathy

is the

drawing

together

of things, the revelation

of the

sameness

of

things.

This

is counterbalanced

by antipathy,

which main-

tains the

isolation of things

and

prevents

their

total

assimilation.

The

movement created

by the

interplay

of the

sympathy-antipathy

pair gives

rise to the other

three forms

of

similitude,

and

the whole

volume

of

the world is held together,

supported,

and reproduced

by this

space

of

resemblances.

In this way,

Foucault

suggests,

the

world remains

the same

(Foucault,

t970:25).

Resemblance,

sameness, links,

and

relationships

are

a basic

structure

of knowing. To know

is

to

understand

how

the

things

of

the

world

are the

same,

however

different they

may

look.

And it is in

the

signarures

inscribed

upon the

surface

of things

that these

similitudes, this sameness,

can

be

recognised.

The

world is

a world

of

signs to be read and the

endless task

of interpretation

is

the basic

structure

of

knowledge.

The

fundamental

epistemological

configuration is

the reciprocal

cross-

referencing

of signs and similitudes.

Knowledge

was

diuinatio.

Magic

and

the occult were integral

parts

of knowledge.

As a consequence

of this

t','t;rr.r,

reading.,

words

and

things

were

understood

as the

same' There

,

;;-;;

much

-tanguase,.

"ld

",'

1':h-,l:_b-'-:'i11^ll_'llli''_1lj11lj

,I;i

t

"u,

as

there

was

in

books.

Reading and

writing

were

privileged

'..:

\:

'

,'

:

',ilol""fr

.describes

the

Renaissance

episteme

as

plethoric, but

poverry-

tilk.;,

mitless,

because

resemblance

was never

stable, but

consisting

-;?'a;Jf.*

relationships.

This

was

a

knowledge

which could and

did

;;;J

by

the

accumulations

of configurations

that

were all dependent

"

*.ft

oih.t.

There

was,

therefore,

no real

substance,

and no means of

,,l,Xe;.rr.n.

Legend,

stories,

hearsay,

and

material

things

all offered

nor*Uitiri.r

for

discovering

likenesses and relationships.

None could be

iscard.d,

as

all

were

potentially

'true''

.

:'

:

.i,ih.

Renaissance

forms

of knowing,

which Foucault

describes

as the

nrear

circular

forms

within

which

similitude

was enclosed,

were abruptly

i.rotur.d

in

the

early

years

of

the seventeenth century.

The attenuated

,n

.*p"nded

medieval

forms

of

knowing,

with

their

dependence

on

"'.ndl.r,

accumulations

of

dubious

and unverifiable

'proofs',

and

with no

dlrrirr.rion

between

what

had

been seen and what

had been

read, could

' no

longer

be

sustained

at

a time

when the

voyages

of discovery,

and

'lexperiments

with

natural

materials, were

making

new

information

avail-

able.

In

the

seventeenth

century,

'all

that

was left

of the

Renaissance

episteme

were

games

-

the

fantasies and charms

of a

not

yet

scientific

knowledge'

(Foucault,

1970:51).

Resemblance, as a

primary function of

empirical

knowledge,

was now

perceived

as

muddled, confused,

and

disordered.

The

classic

al

episteme

set

itself a more

restricted

project. Its founding

structure

was that

of order, through

measurement

and

the drawing-up

of hierarchical

series. The

classificatory

table emerged as

the basic

struc-

ture

of knowledge

(Foucault,

1,970:74).

The

activity of mind,

knowing,

was

no longer

to consist of drawing

things together,

but

in setting

things

apart,

in discriminating

on the basis of difference,

rather than

in

joining

on

the basis

of

similitude.

To know

was

to

discriminate, and

this

dis-

crimination

took

place through

a separation

of the

endless world of

resemblances

into two

parts:

on

the one hand

the

taxonomies,

the

classi-

fications,

and the

hierarchies of

knowledge; and on

the other hand,

the

infinite

raw

material

provided

by nature for

analysis

into divisions

and

distributions.

Theory and nature,

being

and

knowing,

become rwo

parts

of

the

world,

which

was

now

to be

known through objective

analysis

rather

than

through

subjective exp'erience.

A

table

of

classification

was

posited,

and on

it,

all

natural things

were

arranged,

grouped

into families

on

the basis of

their visible

features.

1,4

15

'S7hat

is

a museum?

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

13/23

l6

(

Museums

and

the

Shaping

of

Knowledge

I*,,:ml:j:::::E

::: If_il

.

sers,,,

wi

rh

their

rer

ati

onsh ips

described

:::.j:1,i.:::;jlf:-11;.;*,"'*l'f

i::l:T:'ff

,T?:i

:::::'

*', ::'Ty:l:'

:'is*

in ca

ges

th

"t

*.,.

G;;;

;;:,i:i

ilIlJ,:1 ::

0..:?:,

:.iI,I':_fl

lily

rel

a iio nship

s

throusr,,r,.

i rnla.,{

3.li::1.:-P:$,*.re,arransed

io

form

.r"r.in."iio,i,

;;h

;:?;

:T :::f *ijf 1,,hfi

-lT':t

l1

:r'h,'

*"

-

J'

-.n'

i

"*l

'?:

:?^1t,?:.:*:d,"lt

the

possib.le

relationships

in

advance,

*ir.f,

*.r.

rd

visually

scanned

in

order

to

identify

rhe

sequences

of

order.

The

classic

al

age rejected

the

complexity

of

the

Renaissance

e,istemp

and

anempred

to

presenr

a

simprifieJ,

but

utterry,.rin"ui.

t"";fJ;..;

the

classificarory

table,

order

was

presented

through

the

visible

features

of

things.

The

botanical

model

of

ihe

idendficatioi

oi

pt"r,,

r"mili.,

*ii

transposed

on

to other

forms

of

knowledge.

Thus

do.to*

botanised

il

the garden

of

pathology.

Knowledge,

whlh

was pr*iourly

,rroughi

io

be

without

limit,

was

now

felt

to

be

definabl.

"n

controllable.

Limits

could

be

drawn

through

rhe

correcr

idenrification

of t

i.r"r.il,

il;;;;

If

the

exacr

relationship

_of

one

thing

to

anorher,

or of

one

word

.;;;

thing,

could

only

be

established,

once

and

for

all, then

a firm

foundation

for

knowing

would

come

inro

exisrence.

This

courd

be

used

with

con_

6dence,

in

a

way

in

which

the

knowledge

which

h"d

b;.;-;;r;;';;;

from

the

sixteenth cenrury

could

not.

For this

knowledge

to

b.

trulf

effective,

rhe

basic

relarionships

and

identities

needed

to

bJ

agreed

by

all

scholars.

t7ith

the

increasing

use

of vernacular

languages,

scientists

and

scholars

could

not

speak

to

each

other.

The

proiec,

oi

"

,i'iu.rsal

language

was

proposed,

where

the

fixed

and

agreediaxonomies

of

word,

;il;

be

supported

by a

similar

raxonomy

of

n"trr."l

things-

This

form

of

knowing,

however,

was

also

flawed.

It

did

not prove

possibre

to

relate

all

the

things

of

the

world

to

each

orher

on

the

basis

of

visible

difference,

in

a

great

flat table

of

difference.

Nor

was

it

possible

to

devise

a language

where

each

word

had

its counterpart

in

a

materiar

object.

This,

to

us

today,

Iiving

at

rhe

end

of

Fouca,it's

modern

age,

seems

a

ridiculous

thing

to

rry

to

do.

Tfle

no

longer

understand

rlogu"ge

as

represenring

things.'we 'know'

that words

,.p..r.n,

thoughts.

Ll"niu"g.

relares

to rhe

activity

of

mind

rather

than

the

materialiry

of

narure.

At

the end

of the

eighteenrhcentury,

the

space

of

knowledge

was

ruptured

yet

again.

'$7e

have

seen

how

the great

circular

forms

of sixenth_

cenrury

similitude

collapsed

into

the

flat

tables

of identity

and

difference

(Foucaulr,

1'970:

zr7).

Now

this

flat

tabre

of

difference

mutated

into

a

three-dimensional

space

where

'the

general

area

of

knowledge

was

no

longer

that

of

identities

and

of

differ..,..r,

that

of

non-quantitative

orders,

that

of a

universal

characterisation,

of

a gener"l

t"*ono-ia,

of

a non-

measurable

mathesis,

but

an

area

made

up

of

organic

structures,

that

is,

1#

l?

L

lu

ltt

|:i

I

l',

'ii

:I

::,: ,

l;tr*"1

relations

between

elements

whose

totality

forms

a

function'

rf"iiuid.;

zts)'

ffi*;a"

rn

episteme

does

not

understand

natural

objects,(or

any

other

i"gli

rimply

btcause

of

how

they look on the surface,

but

wishes

to

;,i;"*

*fty

ir

it

that

things

came

to

look

as

they

do.

Things

T..n"

longer

ij1i,'d"

t.,virual

pieces

to

be

moved

about

on a board of one-level

hierarchies

simPle

visual

Pi

',simple

VtSUal

PleCeS

f()

UC

ruuvst'l

41.,(rLrL

\rf,l d' r.'r\rd'lLr

utr-llls-lsvsI

rlrsldlltlltDt

,.

t i'r*

undersrood

as

organic structures,

with

a

variety of different

levels

','i

;t

i,onlexitv.

and

a

variety

of

different

relationships

to each

other,

some

ti;;Of.xity,

and

a

variety

of.different

relationships

to

each other,

some

],

.r.r.

jevel

and

some

at

another.

The organising

principles

of the

new

.,,irr..-di.ensional

space

are

analogy and succession..Th. link between

;n,Orgrnic

structure

and

another

is

no

longer

the

identity

of

several

orrri

but

th.

identity

of the relationship

between

the

parts,

and

of

the

fun.tionr

which

they

perform. In this

questioning

of

the relationships

of

{fr*;,

philosoPhY

was born'

ilnthe

seventeenth

and

eighteenth

centuries, classifiers

measured

difference

,,'il'lo,^p^ring

visible

structures: in

the nineteenth

century,

organic

struc-

,tture

ptouided

the

organising

principle.

Organic structure was manifested

;,thro-ugh,

in

relation

to the

great

natural families

of

plants

and

animals,

::ltr;;a

characteristics

most

basic

to

their

existence,

rather than the

most

'vibible.

These

characteristics

were

linked

to

functions

(Foucault,

t970:

,,t,,22[),The

visible

features

of

plants

and animals were

now to be explained

, in"terms

of

their

functional role. Thus

links

were

made between the

',structure

of

the teeth

of a carnivore'and

the corresponding structure of

,its

toes,

claws,

and

intestines.

The

notion

of

life

became indispensable

to

the

ordering of natural beings.

Superficial

manifestations

had

to

be understood

in

relation to the depths

of

the body.

The visible had

to be related

to

the

invisible.

Classifying

was

no longer

to

mean

the

referring

of the visible

back

to

itself,

nor was

rhe

task of representing

all the

elements

to

be the responsibility

of one;

classifying

would now mean, in

a move

that

swings the

mode

of

analysis

into

the third

dimension,

relating

the

seen to

the unseen,

and then moving

again

from

unseen structures

back

to

the visible

signs

displayed on

the

surface

of

bodies

and

things.

These

invisible

srrucures,

these

deeper

causes,

are

not now

understood

as

secret

texts

or hidden

resemblances,

as

they

were

in

the

sixteenth

century: these depths

are

now

to be

under-

stood

as features

of

a

coherent,

organic structure.

The

search

for

causes

and

organic

structures

meant

that,. in

the

knowing of

the natural world,

for

example,

natural

history

came to an end

and biology opened

up.

The

idea

that

a complete

and

unified corpus

of knowledge was

possible

still

had

validity

ar

the

beginning

of

the nineteenth

century,

as

is

demonstrated

by

the work

of Descartes,

Dideror, and Leibniz

\7hat

is

a museum?

L7

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

14/23

(

Museums

and the Shaping

of

Knowledge

(Foucault,

1970: 247).

But

the

encyclopedic

project

which

these

scholars

proposed,

which

was

grounded

in

the notion

of

the

complete

classificato",]

table,

was, Foucault

srares, 'reduced

to

a

superficial

glitter

above

"n

.byj,

(ibid.:251).

In

the

abyss

were

the

complex

inrerrelationships

of analysis

and

philo-

sophical

thought.

The

modern

age

made possible

the sciencer

oirrn.

The human

sciences

questioned

objects and relationships.

Problematics

were

raised;

new methods

and

approaches

were

developed.

A new

forrn

of knowing,

based

on the

questioning

of

why

things were

how

th.y

*.r.,

made

its appearance.

The

activity

of knowing

was

the

questioning,

the

analysis,

and the exposition

of

organic

and functional

relationships,

between

marerial

things.

It was

no

longer

enough

to merely place

obiects

in physical

proximities

in

order

to reveal

their

immediate

links.

Now,

knowledge

required

the

revelation

of

deeper,

more intimate,

and

more

fundamenral

relationships.

And as

deeper

relationships

between

things

were demanded,

so

the

philosophical

questions

were

asked

about

the

nature

of

man.

In many

ways,

Foucault's

three

epistemes

appe^r

remarkably

improbable.

They certainly

raise issues

and approaches

that have

not been

used

to

explore any

history

of

museums.

And

yet, there are

resonances

here

that

are

tantalising.

In

some

instances,

Foucault

comes

close

to

discussing

museums.

He

talks about

natural

history

collections,

and

menageries.

The encyclopedic

projecr

is

mentioned.

And

The

order

of

Things

is,

of

course,

entirely concerned

with the

way in

which

objects

have

been

known

and

understood.

If

Foucault's

exrraordinary

epistemes

could in

any way

be feasible,

what kind

of museums

would be

revealed?

rTith

what func-

tions?

As

has

been

pointed

out,

someone

who

accepts Fouiault's

descrip-

tions

of the different

epistemes

in The

Order

of Things

will

look

for

explanations

of

a very

different

kind

from those

required

by other

descrip-

tions

of

the 'objects'

rhar

stand

in

need

of explanarion

(Davidson,

L986:

223).

In

relation

to

the

'history of

the

museum',

very

little

historical

work

has

been undertaken

from

any theoretical

perspective

at

all,

but

those

histories

that

have been produced

to

date

have

not been

written either

to

take

acount

of

the epistemological

contexr

of

museums, or

from the

standpoint

of effective

history.

The

'histories'

of museums

Two

forms of

'histories'

of

the

'museum'

can

be currently

identified.

one

is

the all-encompassing

'encyclopedic'

account

that

attempts to

produce

Z

'

A

young

visiror

at the African

culture

exhibition

at Bruce

Castle

Museum,

Haringey,

London,

1990.

In the

modein

ag

the

function

of the museum

is to

research and demonstrate

the social and

cultural

context of

artefacts

and

to

foster relationships

between

obiects

and people.

;ili

iN:

l&;

4

lit;

iri

lji

't,

a

ft

' i : i

;:

18

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

15/23

: ,

1;

(

Museums

and the Shaping of Knowledge

chronological,

incremental

descriptions

of

the

'developmenr'

of

rlusuhs

These

histories

include

Alexander

(1979),

Bazin

(1,967),

Taylor

(194gi'

Van

Holst

(L967),

Murray

(1.904),

and l7ittlin

(1949;

1970).

nlongrij.

these accounts are

narratives

concerning

either

single individuals

"s

.ol-

lectors

(Alexander,

1.983;

Edwards,

1870)

or focusing

on

the

history

sf

single institutions

(Bazin,

L959;

Caygill, 1981;

Gould, 1965;

Klessrrnn,,

1,971.;

MacGregor,

1983).

These

are all written

from

within

'traditionali

history

(Foucault,

L977c:153)

and

retain its

dependence

on absolutes

and

its belief in.the

transcendental

creative

subject.

In each case, the narrow focus

of description

demanded

in order

to

satisfyl

the

constraints to

place

particular

themes within

an already

existing

fullv

fixed identity

(the

museum)

leads to

a

lack

of

critical analysis

of

the

specific

features under

discussion.

This results

in

the construction

of

a

'safe'

and uncontentious

history,

which is

of course rhe

object

of

the

exercise

all

along.

To

take

one

example,

Caygill

writes:

'The

"father"

of

the

British

Museum

was

Sir Hans

Sloane

(1560-1753),

a physician

said

to have been

born

at Killyleagh,

County

Down

and

graduated

MD

at

orange in 1683. Sloane's

passion

for collecting

accelerated

following

his

appointment as

personal

physician

ro the

new Governor

of

Jamaica,

the

Duke of

Albemarle, in

1,687'

(Caygill,

198L:

5). The

accounr goes

on

ro

point out how

Sloane was

noted

for'promoting

the

practice of

inoculation

against

smallpox

and popularising

the

consumption of milk chocolate'.

This

'normal

history'

does not question

the specific

conditions

under

which Sloane's

'passion

for

collecting'

was

able

to

be accelerated

in

Jamaica,

nor the

relationship

between two

such

apparently diverse

prac-

tices as

inoculation and

drinking chocolate.

A more recenr

accounr

(Daby-

deen, 1987) identifies

an articulation

between

the

marriage

of Sloane

to

a

Jamaican

heiress, his

participation

in

the

slave

rrade,

and

his

financial

abilities

to

collect.

An effective

history of

the British

Museum

would

select

a specific

time-frame

and would identify

all

the

various elements

rhat

together made

up

the

identity

of

the

'museum'

at thar

particular

time.

The effects of the different

elemenrs,

such as the

participarion

in

the slave

trade, the acquisition

of

large financial

resources,

the travel

to

the West

Indies, and

so

on, would

all

be

assessed

as ro their

particular

functions.

In addition,

those

aspects

nor

generally

considered 'historical'

(love,

conscience, instincts,

egoisms, bodies) would be

isolated,

and

their

roles

assessed

(Foucault,

1977c:

1.40, 1,49).

Recently more

detailed, scholarly

work

has begun to be

produced by

curators

engaged in

research,

where the

writers

are

often enmeshed

in

the

practices whose histories

they are reconstructing

(MacGregor,

L983;

Impey

and

MacGregor, 1985;

Simcock, 1984; Hill,

1986;

Nicholson

and

'Warhurst,

1,984).

[n

many

cases this work is more useful"than the

gen-

20

21

\fhat

is

t

ffi

;;IJ.ilit:r::ili'".1lii*iff:,i,f:,

i

$rliill;;i'''d;"'rt;",':",T,9:.'"-T:i::*'"Y::"1Y

j'X:

.

+luli:ru'i"l

""

Merieyside)

its

largest

single

donation in

1867.

This

.l"i^i-l,"i".

consisting

of

about

14,000 items,

including prehistoric,

, itjirr,ll"rri."l,

Erruscan,

peruvian,

and Mexican

antiquities; medieval

',',,1i54r,'i'.,11-,'

.^-r:^.,^l m4nrRcnnts..rvones. enamels. embroideries.

pottery.

EBlvtLs't'

"

t

3s,

enamels, embroideries,

pottery,

.'IJoot*tedieval

manuscrlPts''

lvorl(

:t'";;

J

w

a

tc

h

es'

1':

:,"

"^1

i:f

'-"'L

::1,

:'l

*::l':]-'

?

::l':,.T

t

:l^

ru'ss

-'--

example

of

this sort

of work

is the

"'fl'"-*a

Warhurst,

L984)'

Another

,l,.irlrnin"rion

of

the

cabinet

of

Bonnier

de la Mosson

(1792:4)

in

Paris

I ;:;;;,

1740,

which

is

reconstructed

through

the survival

of a set of

I

;;;s,

a

contempor^ry

description,

and a sale

catalogue

(Hill,

1986);

l: lr: .r :

[, l.:-'

I

d

ror.

cases

this

research

is

relatively--explo11.-ty

and in its.focus

on

l;

b"rary

records

(for

example,

'Welch,

1983)

might

well

provide

i' [

'irful

material

for

an

effective

history, but

in very

many.

cases

the

'|iii#

of

the

questioning

of

these contemporary

documents

(Foucault,

-igffa,

O)

h"r

failed

to remark

on

quite critical

points made

by the

docu-

t-,-

-,_-_--l^

----:--- ^r

r^L-

.r--

i;,,,

;j'rfremselves.

Thus

MacGregor,

for

example,

writes of

John

Tra-

li'did"nr,

'Three

years

later

he

made

his

6rst

visit to

Virginia, when

it was

"',,''itoidrd

that:

"In

1637

John

Tredescant

[sic]

was

in

the

colony,

to

.:Ea it

all

rarities of

flowers,

plants,

shells"

l

(MacGregor,

L983: 11).

The

.l,'dolments

are

interrogated

from the

point

of

view of reconstructing

a

'ttiStty

of

John

Tradescant,

the

'father' of

the

Ashmolean

Museum,

a

;"iiiiSity

that

is

premised

on

the centralised

and transcendental

subject. An

,ffective

history,

working on

the

documents from within,

and asking

,*hrr

series

present

themselves

for analysis, would

not

assemble the

"d,jcuments

to

provide

a

descriptive biography of

a single

'collector',

but

:might

put

together

a series that

demonstrated

how colonisation

enabled

th"'.n

.tg.nce

of

a

particular range

of

subject

positions,

or

a

particular

iet of

technologies,

that together

partly

accounted for

the transformation

: of

existing

practices

of

the collection of material

things within

a specific

geo-historical

site.

Where

very

genuine

and detailed

archival

research has been carried out,

this

is

susceptible

to being

presented

in

a way

that tends to

underplay the

precise

specificity

and the difference of the findings.

Recently,

much work

has

been

carried

out in Europe

as

a

whole on the

'museums'

of the

late

sixteenth

and

early seventeenth

centuries.

Some of

these

were

collated

following

a

conference

on

The

Origins of

Museums

(Impey

and

MacGregor,

1985).

The

unique conclusions and originality

of much of

the

research

presented

in

the

papers is

denied

by the editors in their

introductory

statements

which

seek to

establish the unity

of a linear

progressive

history

of an essentialisr

'museum'. The

editors'asserr

that

since

the

sixteenth

century, 'with

due allowance

for the

passage

of

years,

a

museum?

7/23/2019 Hooper-Greenhill-what is a Museum

16/23

''4t

(

Museums

and

the Shaping of Knowledge

no difficulty will

be found in

recognizing

that, in rerms

of

function,

1i1

has

changed'

(ibid.:

1).

'Function'

is understood

as

'keeping

"nd

,orri

the

products

of Man and

Nature'.

This

ignores

the

fact

that

in

processes

of

'keeping

and

sorting'

it is

precisely

the principles

of

seleci

and

classification that

have

radically

changed.

Most museums

today,

example,

collect

almost

exclusively

from among

old things,

and

h

extreme

difficulty

integrating

new

things inro

current

practices

1985;

Jone

s, 1987). The

endless

debates

over'rwentieth-cenrury

collecti

or

'contemporary

collecting'

(Green,

1985;

Suggitt,

1985;

Davies,

1

Ambrose and Kavanagh,1987;

Schlereth,

1989)

show

the difficulry

some

museums have in

conceptualising

their

'functions'

as

other

than

relation to

the past.

In

the 'museums'

of the

sixteenth century,

as

collected

papers

amply indicate,

many

of

the

main items

collected

in fact contemporary, including,

for

example,

finely

worked

imported

precious

materials

(Scheicher,

1985:

33);

ornaments,

and

clothing

from recently

'discovered'

parts

of the world

(Aimi

al.,

1985);

and

tools

made

to

order

for

many conremporary

crafts

professions

(Menzhausen,

L985:

71).

Menzhausen

further

points

out

that the

Kunstkammer

of

the

Augustus in

Dresden

in

the seventeenth

century

was

'not

a museum

the

sense

of

an

exclusive

exhibition:

ir

was a

working

collection',

places to

work,

particularly

at technical processes,

within the

Ku

katnmer.In

addition,

the collecrion

contained

many

pieces

made

by

elector himself and his

son.

It is

further recorded

thar tools, books,

materials

were loaned

from

the Kunstkammer

to

craftsmen

who

producing

items for the collection

(Menzhausen,

1985:

73). This

is

dissimilar to museums today.

Searching

for the unity

in

relation

to

essential

identity conceals

the

rich diversity

of things and

disguises

ible

opportunities

for the

present.

Other

current museum practices

are

discovered in

the 'museums'

the sixteenth century.

'Reference

collections

were

essential tools

for

fundamental

research

undertaken

by

early

naturalists'

(Impey

and

M

Gregor,

1985:

1). 'Scholars benefited

instantly

from

the

publication

specimens

held by

their

contemporaries

-

an arrangement

which retai

equal importance

today'

(ibid.:2).

Both these

statemenrs seek

to

repli

the

present

in

the

past. 'Normal'

history

seeks

to show

how things ha

not changed,

how things

have

remained

the

same from

o